My body screams for me to look down, to confirm that what just happened truly was real.
I stop myself from looking over the edge. I already know what waits for me at the bottom. I don't need to bear witness to the mangled body of my best friend down below.
I stumble back from the edge, horrified, heartbroken, afraid.
I begin to pull Julian's notebook out of my bag, but I stop myself. The sun has almost fully risen over the walls; the gates will open any minute.
If I begin to read through the messages, my volatility may lead me to do something reckless now. I can't afford that. Not with home to near.
my Instead, I run my fingers over the cover in a silent promise.
Part of me wants to follow Julian off the wall; part of me wants to lie down and allow the maze to consume me, but as soon as my fingers wrap around the hilt of Julian's silver dagger, those parts of me sink back into the depths.
He told me he was already dead. He was stung. There was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do.
I repeat the words to myself as a mantra.
I grip the dagger to my chest, getting to my feet. Julian was in the maze for three years. For three years, he fought for a way out for the Gladers. I? barely a month.
With him gone, who will fight for them?
Two lefts, then a right.
Thick rain begins, soaking into my hair and staining the walls of the maze a darker slate grey.
Despite the stabbing pains in my leg and chest, I set off. I hear the shuffle of my limp echoing off the walls as I take my first left, reminding me instantly of a certain Glader back in the centre.
As I near the final right turn out of the maze, the thumping in my chest becomes too much to bear. I lean against the wall of the maze, panting hard from struggling against the gash in my thigh.
With each step, each breath, guilt builds. I keep telling myself I never could have saved him, yet something tugs at me, telling me that maybe I could've.
I sink to the ground, putting my head in my hands. The tears come now; freely, mingling with rainwater on my cheeks.
Suddenly, there's a deep rumbling. At first, fear knots in my chest, and I wonder if the disaster from earlier may recur, then I open my eyes, realization dawning. Around the corner, the gates of the maze are opening.
Through the sound of the pouring rain, I hear familiar voices.
"Are they there?" Chuck. A shuffling of feet.
"I don't know, I can't see!" Another voice.
"Move!" Gally. I hear everyone yelling, clamouring for a minute as the gates open fully, then absolute silence as the rumbling stops. Finally, a small, dejected voice speaks.
"They- they didn't make it?" It's Chuck. More silence.
"They never would have. No one's ever survived a night in the maze, shank." Gally's voice.
Another pause.
"Everyone, back to work." Alby. There's a shuffling of feet, but it's far less spirited than before.
I should be out there; I should run to them and assure them I'm alright. They deserve to know what happened out there yesterday, but it's a struggle to breathe right now, the weight in my chest too much.
I slowly count to ten before pushing myself off the wall. I'm about to round the corner when I hear a voice.
"Come on, back to the homestead." It's Alby again. He waits for a moment, then I hear a small voice.
"Just- just give me a moment."
My lips part as I recognize the lightly accented voice. Something tugs heavily at my heartstrings.
I resist looking around the corner as I hear how thickly sadness is coated in his voice. I hear the shuffling of feet again as someone walks away, and only then do I press my back against the wall, standing.
What am I supposed to tell them?
What are they supposed to think of me?
As the rain clouds my vision, I open my eyes and take a step forward and into the final alley. About 50 metres away are the gates, behind that, the glade, and before that-
My breath catches in my throat as soon as I see him, and instantly, something in me loosens. The fist around my heart unclenches.
He's sitting with his back turned against the maze, face turned up to the sky while rain pours down around him.
There's a moment of suspended silence; the rain is torrential, blurring my visions, but I'd be able to make out the features of this sandy haired boy from anywhere.
And then, everything unfreezes; I begin sprinting down the alley, towards him.
Blood pounds in my ears as from before, but this time, it's a pounding in excitement rather than fear. Everything in my body is compelling me, drawing me towards him.
30 metres. My bag falls to the ground.
20 metres. Rain blurs my vision as I sprint, my feet hitting stone in an increasingly accelerating rhythm.
10 metres. As my footsteps become closer to him, he turns his head, instantly meeting my eyes. His are red and watery. Vulnerable. As soon as he sees me, his lips part in an expression of awe and disbelief, and he rises slowly to his feet, brown eyes never leaving mine. Not for a second.
Time seems to slow as the rain pours down. 5 metres now.
The last thing I see are his brown eyes, holding mine in disbelief, happiness, longing.
As soon as I reach him, he opens his mouth to say something, but I deny him the opportunity, pressing myself against him in a desperate embrace, his familiar smell bringing me home as I bury my face into the crook of his neck.
At first, he is unresponsive, perhaps in shock, allowing me to hug him without moving an inch, then he responds to me, bringing both arms up to wrap around me, holding me to him.
I close my eyes, reveling in this new feeling, being held by him for the first time.
My heart beats in my ears as the tears come freely. Around him, I feel safe. In his arms, safe. I soak the front of his brown shirt, sobbing relentlessly into him. Which each sob, he holds me tighter, latching on like he's afraid to let go.
Finally, I take a breath and lift my head, still pressed against him.
"Newt, I-" I start, but I can't find the words. I have to tell him what happened; I have to warn all of them of what's coming, but in this moment, I can't bring myself to. "I'm sorry- I should have listened, I-" he cuts me off.
"It doesn't matter." He breathes, his face inches from mine. "You're here now." He smiles, small tears forming in his eyes.
"No- Julian-"
"It doesn't bloody matter-" His words are rushed as he cuts himself off, looking into my eyes for a brief minute before bringing his lips to mine.
YOU ARE READING
Newt x Reader || A13
FanfictionHe was alone; he was fragile; he was scared, crumbling under the weight of a leader's role. He is the glue. She is bold; she is determined; she is confused, haunted by visions of her forgotten past. She is the trigger. From the ashes of a world dest...
